


we'll make it easy, we'll make it fun

by thistidalwave



Series: poem 'verse [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-07 00:48:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thistidalwave/pseuds/thistidalwave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>uni au. Niall and Zayn ring in 2012 in style.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we'll make it easy, we'll make it fun

**Author's Note:**

> prequel to _if you want me to write a poem (about you)_
> 
> britpicked by the lovely Sally. :) 
> 
> Happy 2014 from Calley and me and our arsenal of poem au pain. :D

“You have champagne in there, right?” Niall asks, watching Zayn unlock the door to her flat. 

“Yeah, champagne, already told you,” Zayn says, finally getting the lock and pushing the door open. They’re both already tipsy, just heading back from a New Year’s Eve party Louis had dragged them to. They’d ended up basically not knowing anybody except Louis, and Louis was too busy doing body shots to pay them any mind, so they’d figured it didn’t matter if they just ducked out early. 

Niall makes a beeline for the kitchen, then stands awkwardly in the middle of it, looking around at the cupboards. She’s been to Zayn and Louis’ flat quite a bit the past few months, but she still doesn’t know where they keep the alcohol. This seems like a serious oversight. 

Zayn comes up behind Niall, pressing her hands into Niall’s hips and her face into Niall’s neck. “Champagne’s in the fridge,” she mumbles, pressing a kiss against Niall’s skin. Niall giggles. Of course the champagne is in the fridge. Duh. 

She grabs Zayn’s right hand and drags it up so she can smack a kiss to the back of it before pulling away to open the fridge. She finds the champagne hidden in the back, behind a stack of takeaway containers, and pulls it out triumphantly. She turns around only to find that Zayn is in the living room, doing something on her laptop. She shrugs and starts opening and closing cupboards until she finds cups. 

“This is the real way to ring in the new year,” Niall declares, setting down the bottle and the cups on the coffee table next to Zayn’s laptop. She frowns. “Do you know how to open that bottle?” 

They google how to open the bottle and end up getting foam all over their hands and the floor, giggling stupidly and trying to lick each other’s fingers. 

“This tastes vile,” Zayn says, holding Niall’s hand up to her face so she can stare at it in apparent confusion. 

Niall laughs and pulls her hand away to actually pour the champagne. “It’s no vintage, that’s for sure,” she says. 

Zayn snorts, taking the cup Niall hands her. “Definitely not.”

Niall watches her for a moment, marvelling at how pretty she is. It had really been serious luck that Niall had happened to sit next to her that first day of class, and that Zayn had fallen asleep constantly so that Niall had to keep giving her the notes she’d taken. Now she can’t really imagine uni without Zayn, all her new experiences tied up in experiencing Zayn.

Niall stretches her legs out in front of her, crossing her legs at the ankle like a proper lady wearing a skirt whilst sitting on the floor and drinking terrible champagne. “What were you doing with your laptop?” she asks, nodding toward it. 

“Oh!” Zayn says, surprised. She puts down her cup and pokes at her laptop until it starts playing cheesy pop music. “There.”

Niall grins. “Excellent,” she says, hopping to her feet and bouncing around. She can’t really dance, but she figures if she hasn’t scared Zayn off by now, a bit of terrible dancing isn’t going to do it. “Come on,” she says, stopping to put her own cup down and hold a hand out to Zayn.

“I don’t dance,” Zayn says. 

“Please,” Niall says, pouting and fluttering her eyelashes. 

“Nope,” Zayn says. 

Niall rolls her eyes. “Get up, you can just stand awkwardly while I bop around you if you insist.” She grabs Zayn’s arm and drags her to her feet. “But, I might point out, there’s no one here but me, and I’m certainly not going to care.” 

Zayn huffs a sigh and picks up her cup, draining it and pouring herself a new one while Niall hums along to the music and shifts from foot to foot to the rhythm. Zayn hands her her drink again, and Niall takes it, sipping at it while she slowly spins around.

“Probably not the best idea,” Zayn observes, and Niall stops, blinking until she gets her bearings again.

“Fair point, well made,” she says. She stumbles exaggeratedly over to Zayn, leaning against her. “Hold me.”

Zayn gamely wraps an arm around Niall’s waist. “Are you drunk, babe?”

“Might be getting there,” Niall says. She feels more giddy to be with Zayn after they hadn’t seen each other over Christmas than anything. She drops her voice to confide in Zayn, “I wore a skirt to impress you.”

Zayn laughs. Her breath is warm against Niall’s cheek. “Did you? You’re still trying to impress me?”

“Only a little,” Niall says. “Not wearing heels like it’s a first date, am I? I just have amazing legs, and I think you should appreciate them.”

“I do,” Zayn says. “They’re wonderful legs.”

Niall smiles stupidly. “You do the makeup thing so well,” she observes, poking Zayn in the lip. Zayn’s red lipstick comes away pink on Niall’s finger. She probably has a pink lip print on the back of her neck, she realises. She kind of likes that. 

Zayn lights up like she’s just had an epiphany. “Can I do your makeup?” 

Niall giggles. “Sure,” she says. 

“I’ll be right back,” Zayn says, heading toward the bathroom.

Niall flops down on the sofa. “I’ll wait here!” she calls after Zayn. She finishes her champagne and pours herself more before Zayn returns, carrying her makeup bag with her. She sits down next to Niall and starts rummaging through it. 

“I only have one request,” Niall says, holding up a finger when Zayn turns to her, container of makeup in hand. Zayn quirks an eyebrow in question. “I wish to be glittery.”

Zayn laughs. “I think I can make that happen.”

“Good,” Niall says. “If I ring in the new year with glitter all over me, it’ll be like I’m Ke$ha, and you know what they say about starting as you mean to go on.”

Zayn nods seriously. “I don’t have foundation that’ll match your skin tone, so I’m just gonna go straight in on the eyeshadow,” she says. 

“Whatever,” Niall says, taking a large sip of her champagne. “Just tell me what to do with my face.”

“Eyes closed,” Zayn commands, and Niall complies. 

They migrate closer together on the sofa as Zayn carefully applies makeup, eventually ending up with their hips pressed together, Zayn’s leg thrown over Niall’s. Zayn swears multiple times while applying the eyeliner, and they take frequent breaks to drink more champagne, which probably doesn’t help with Zayn’s overall accuracy. 

“It’s a good thing you did the mascara near the beginning,” Niall comments while Zayn frowns at her lip liner job. “I don’t think I’d trust you with that near my eyeballs at this point.”

“Shhh, you look beautiful,” Zayn says, very clearly fucking up the corner of Niall’s lips and trying to fix it with her finger. “You always look beautiful.”

“Thanks, love,” Niall says, drawing out the vowels. “Can I have the hot pink lipstick?” 

“Of course,” Zayn says, and she painstakingly applies it, slow as molasses. Niall has to fight to keep from bursting into laughter at the look of concentration on her face and the ticklish feel of the lipstick. 

Zayn brushes pink blush onto Niall’s cheeks, and then Niall grabs the brush she’s going to use for the glitter and applies it to her entire face. “How’s that?” she asks, turning her face side to side. 

“Gorgeous,” Zayn says. “Like a vampire.”

Niall snorts. “Hell yeah.” She pretends to bite Zayn’s neck, and Zayn laughs, pushing her away.

“You’re going to ruin your lipstick,” she says. “I want it to last at least ten minutes, come now.”

“High expectations,” Niall says, reaching for her cup only to discover that both it and the bottle are empty. “Oh no, whatever shall we do?”?

Zayn looks considering for about five seconds before a smirk creeps onto her face. “Wanna get high?”

Niall grins. “Do I ever,” she says. “Oooh, look, half an hour until 2012.”

“It will be the best half an hour of the whole year,” Zayn says solemnly, getting up to get the weed. Niall immediately misses her warmth, and she privately thinks that the next half hour will probably actually make top five, however much Zayn is joking. 

Niall pulls Zayn down onto the sofa as soon as she returns. Zayn situates herself between Niall’s legs, leaning back against her, and they take turns passing the spliff back and forth. Niall feels like she’s melting, becoming one with the sofa, and Zayn is relaxing into her as well, so that they may as well all be one floaty cloud of, like, chocolate or something. 

Zayn turns her head so she can blow smoke into Niall’s face. “You’re high,” she informs Niall. “Comparing us to chocolate, honestly.”

“Shut up, so are you,” Niall mumbles. “Is it 2012 yet? I don’t want it to be 2012.”

Zayn’s eyebrows furrow together. “Why not?”

“I liked 2011,” Niall says. “Met you.”

“You’re adorable,” Zayn says, kissing the underside of Niall’s jaw. “But, like, now we have a whole new year we get to face, like, together.”

“Mmm, I guess so. Give us the last of that, then,” Niall says, gesturing at the spliff. Zayn takes a hit instead of handing it to her, shifting more and gesturing for Niall to let her shotgun it. Their noses fit perfectly next to each other, Niall notes gleefully as she breathes in the smoke from Zayn’s mouth. 

It turns into kissing, of course, soft lips pressing against each other sloppily, Zayn getting rid of the roach so that she can devote her hand to more important things, like groping Niall’s boob. Niall kisses the corner of Zayn’s mouth and leans back to admire the hot pink smear there. 

“Your lipstick is, like, super good,” she tells Zayn. “Like, I mean, it barely smears. That’s amazing.”

“It was expensive,” Zayn says. She has a strand of hair in her mouth that Niall pulls out for her, tucking it back behind her ear with a frown. 

“Long hair,” she murmurs. 

Zayn wrinkles her nose cutely. “Too long.”

“We should cut it,” Niall says. “You should let me cut it.”

“Okay,” Zayn agrees. 

Niall blinks. She kind of hadn’t been expecting it to be that easy. Obviously that means it’s an even better idea than she’d thought it was. “Well, come on then, get up,” she says.

They end up in the bathroom with a pair of scissors Zayn found in the kitchen and Louis’ razor, which Niall is sure he won’t mind them borrowing. “You’d look cool with, like, that thing with shorter sides and quiff, like?” She manoeuvres Zayn’s hair into as close an approximation as she can get with Zayn’s current shoulder length hair. Zayn shrugs. Niall shrugs back and goes at it with the scissors. 

By the time she’s finished, it’s been nearly an hour and a half, they’ve both lost their shirts and migrated to sitting on the bathroom floor, and her proudest achievement is remembering that razors have different attachment things _before_ she managed to doom Zayn to baldness. Everything smells like hairspray and weed, and Zayn’s hair isn’t getting in the way of them making out at all.

“You look awesome,” Niall says in between kisses. “Motherfucking _awesome_.” 

“Yeah,” Zayn agrees, reaching to touch her quiff. Niall smacks her hand away. 

“Nope, no touching,” she says. “Only kissing, kiss me now. I made you look awesome, I deserve it.”

Zayn kisses her. Niall is quite pleased with herself. “Brand new us for 2012,” she declares. “I am glitter and you are punk rock.”

“Sexy,” Zayn says. “Come on.” She gets to her feet and pulls Niall up with her, keeping a firm grasp on her hand and tugging her along to the living room, where music is still playing on her laptop and it smells a bit less like hairspray and a lot more like weed. She pokes at her iTunes, putting on a slower song, and drags Niall in so they can slow dance.

Niall presses her face into Zayn’s shoulder and giggles helplessly. “Is this part of the new you?”

“Don’t go thinking this year is going to be all dancing and shit,” Zayn says warningly. “We’re not moving past swaying in the living room at two in the morning.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Niall says, trying to be serious but still laughing. 

“Stop laughing at me,” Zayn says in mock offense. “If you’re gonna be like that we should just go to bed.”

Niall keeps giggling. “Oooh, but bed,” she says. “Yes, bed.” 

Zayn rolls her eyes and keeps one arm looped around Niall’s waist while she pushes her laptop shut, cutting off the music, and they crawl into Zayn’s bed without bothering to wash anything off. Zayn pulls the duvet over them, and Niall curls into her. “S’like heaven,” she says, yawning. “Squishy warm heaven.” 

“Uh huh,” Zayn says, putting her arm over Niall and tugging her closer. “Happy new year, babe.”

“Happy new year,” Niall mumbles, already drifting to sleep. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Zayn says into Niall’s hair.

-

It’s dark when Niall wakes up, but that’s only because Zayn has blackout curtains. Niall can see what’s probably bright noon light at the very edges of them. Zayn is still dead asleep next to her, and Niall rubs at her eyes, trying to get the fuzzy feeling to go away. Her hands come away streaked in glittery purple. She frowns at them.

“Oh, shit,” she says, remembering, and shoves at Zayn’s shoulder. “Wake up, Zayn, we’ve totalled everything.”

Zayn groans. “Need more sleep.”

“No,” Niall whines. “You don’t.”

Zayn blinks her eyes open, stares at Niall for a moment, and then starts awake, jerking away from Niall. “Jesus,” she mutters. “What did I do to you?”

“Made me beautiful, I seem to remember,” Niall says, flashing a winning grin. Zayn pushes herself up on her elbows, and Niall winces. “In a bit less permanent way than I did you,” she adds, reaching out to smooth Zayn’s hair back off her forehead, where it’s flopped down and been flattened in the night. It refuses to be moved, determined to obey the hairspray in it. Niall snorts a laugh. “Your hair looks absolutely shit, babe.” 

“Oh, bloody fantastic,” Zayn says, rolling her eyes. They’re silent for a moment, avoiding eye contact, but the second Niall glances up to meet Zayn’s eyes, they burst into laughter. 

“There is glitter,” Niall says, struggling for breath, “ _everywhere_ in this bed.”

“Your face looks like a disco ball exploded on it,” Zayn says between giggles. 

“Why did we think any of this was a good idea?” Niall asks. 

Zayn just shakes her head. “Do you hear that?” she asks.

Niall tries to stop laughing to listen. She does hear that, as a matter of fact: Louis is definitely banging around somewhere in the flat. “I think Louis is home,” she says, giggling again. “Shit, we didn’t clean anything.”

“He’s done worse,” Zayn says. She’s biting her lip in an attempt to stop her laughter, and it’s unbearably cute. 

“In case he murders us, though,” Niall says, “I love you.”

Zayn snickers. “I love you, too,” she says, just as the bedroom door bangs open to reveal a disheveled Louis.

“ _Why_ is the flat a mess? Are you wearing clothes? Can I open my eyes?”

“We’re wearing clothes,” Zayn assures him, and he opens his eyes. 

He shakes his head at them. “You are _not_ wearing shirts,” he says, waving a scolding finger at them. “And the flat is a _mess_ , had you noticed?”

“No, not really,” Niall says. 

Louis huffs a sigh. “Why do you two look like you’ve just come back from the circus? No, wait, I probably don’t want to know the answer. I’m hungover and I have zero time for this.” He turns and stalks off. 

“That was anticlimactic,” Niall whispers to Zayn. 

Zayn shakes her head. “Wait for it,” she whispers back.

“Did you _use my razor?!_ ” Louis yells from the bathroom. “There is hair _everywhere,_ and you totally used my razor! You better fucking hide!”

-

fin.


End file.
